


Eden

by GrowlingPeanut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel Mating, Angel Wings, Angels are Property, Breeding, Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Wing Clipping, Wing Kink, Wingfic, Wings, angels are pets, fighting circuits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowlingPeanut/pseuds/GrowlingPeanut
Summary: Winchester is a big name across the country, but Sam and Dean want to distance themselves from the family business as much as possible. Using inheritance money to rescue mistreated angels is the biggest act of rebellion the brothers can think of. Their plan goes into action the moment Sam sees the listing.Adult male. Genetically unique; gold feathers. Breeding stock. Housetrained. Unmated. Unclipped wings. Full comprehension of English language. Pedigree provided upon purchase. Reason for sale: refusal to breed.Twenty-thousand bucks is nothing.(On hiatus until further notice.)





	1. Gabriel

A quick twist of his keychain killed the engine, but Sam didn't get out of his car. The check in his pocket, just a single slip of folded paper, felt heavy. With any amount of good luck, John wouldn't find out what it was being used for. With _Sam’s_ luck… He combed his fingers through his hair and climbed out of the driver’s seat. He was already here. Going back would be stupid. He approached the front door, wiping his hands on his jeans, and swallowed down the knot of apprehension in his throat as he rang the bell.

“Be right there!” Heavy footsteps followed the shout and a minute later, the door swung open, revealing a dark-haired woman, who immediately smiled and held out her hand. “You must be Mr. Winchester.”

“Ah, just...Sam, please.” He shook her hand, trying his best to return the smile.

“Sam. Right. I'm Lenore. Come on in…” She stepped aside, allowing Sam through the door. “You read what we put in the listing, right?”

Sam nodded, the words scrolling through his brain. _Adult male. Genetically unique; gold feathers. Breeding stock. Housetrained. Unmated. Unclipped wings. Full comprehension of English language. Pedigree provided upon purchase. Reason for sale: refusal to breed._

“Good, then you already know the basics…” She started up the stairs, motioning for Sam to follow. “He’s up here…didn't want to come out of his room today…”

Sam frowned. “Is he...okay? Healthy?”

Her steps faltered and she sighed. “I'm going to be honest with you...he’s not. I don't want to give up on him, but the longer we keep him, the worse he gets. We obviously didn't want to put any of this in the listing, no one would…” She trailed off, stopping in front of a door. “I think it's stress. He’s a good stud—or...was, I guess—but we had him on a heavy schedule before he stopped performing and that was...over a month ago, now? Since then...well.” She opened the door. “See for yourself.”

The first thing to hit Sam was the smell of stale urine. Lenore kicked a blanket out of the way as she and Sam entered. “Sorry about this. He still makes messes in his bedding no matter how many times we let him outside. Didn't used to, but…”

Sam's eyes swept over the room. It was large, but bland, mostly bare. White walls, laminate flooring. Across from the door was a window, with a three-drawer cabinet underneath it. Pillows and blankets were strewn from wall to wall, stained and rumpled and littered with clumps of feathers. The frame for a full bed sat in one corner, but the mattress had been pulled off and pushed into another corner. In the very center of that mattress sat an angel wearing nothing but a pair of threadbare sweatpants. His knees were tucked against his chest and his wings draped limply behind him.

“He hardly eats,” Lenore continued in a quieter tone as they crossed the room. Hollow, glassy eyes tracked them. “Just enough to keep himself alive, but not much else. Honestly?” She leaned against the wall. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn't want him.”

A jolt of motivation lanced through Sam’s chest. He was here for a reason and he wouldn't let himself leave without taking the angel with him. _Gabriel_ , he reminded himself. The angel’s name was Gabriel. Making sure to stay a few respectful feet back, he crouched at the edge of the mattress. “Hey there,” he murmured. From here, Sam could see that everything about Gabriel was gold. Golden eyes. Golden hair that wound into loose curls where his neck met his shoulders. Golden wings, even if his feathers were dull and matted. Those sullen, whiskey-colored eyes flicked up to meet his own as he spoke. “I'm Sam. I'm gonna be taking you home with me, if that’s okay.”

Gabriel glanced at Lenore, then at Sam, then at the open door. His wings ruffled briefly. Sam’s heart dropped as the feathers rustled back into place. There was a bare patch on the underside of the left wing, plucked completely clean. Sam didn't like assuming the worst, but the patch was easily within arm’s reach for Gabriel. _Close enough to have been_ —

“Like I said, he’s not doing great right now. He's usually a lot more responsive.”

Sam pushed himself back to his feet, slowly. “Everyone has their off days.” He shrugged and attempted a smile.

Lenore sighed. “And that would be fine, he’s had them before, but it’s been an off _month_ …” She shook her head. “We’ve tried everything we can think of and none of it’s worked. We weren’t sure we’d be able to sell him, so if you really still want him, you’re a godsend.”

 _Stick to your guns, Sam. Remember why you’re doing this. It's obvious that Gabriel needs you, he's not healthy or happy here_ — “I still want him.”

“Okay. I'll get the paperwork and let you two…” She waved her hand as she left the room, leaving her sentence unfinished.

As her footsteps faded, Sam knelt down once more, keeping eye contact with the angel. “Hey, I'm not going to make you do any of this.” He gestured vaguely around the room. “I promise. I'm here to get you out of it.”

Gabriel blinked, slow and languid, and then nodded, just barely.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. The acknowledgment was small, but it was something. Smiling as warmly as he could manage, he held out his hand. He wasn't expecting a specific reaction, but any contact Gabriel felt like making would be a step in the right direction.

Gabriel’s eyes flitted between Sam’s face and his hand for a few seconds before he reached forward.

Soft, warm fingertips pressed lightly into Sam’s palm and he held still while they traced the lines on his hand. Gradually, the angel’s eyes lost some of their haze and his exploration got bolder. Both hands wandered gently, lingering on the soft skin of Sam’s wrist before sliding up his forearm. The crescendo of Lenore’s approaching footsteps stopped any further contact and Gabriel pulled back quickly.

Sam frowned, but stood and turned to face her as she rejoined them.

“Alright, I’ve got everything here. Let’s go down to the kitchen table—easier to sign. Gabriel? Come on. Downstairs. Michael’s in his room, so he won't bother you. Get up.”

The angel didn't move.

Lenore took a step toward him, sharpening her tone. “Let’s _go_. Come with us.”

“It's okay if he wants to stay here for now,” Sam assured. “I can fill everything out and come back for him.”

Lenore thought for a few seconds before turning back toward the door with an expression that was more resigned than anything else. Sam followed her out, casting one last glance at Gabriel as he shut the door behind him, trying to convey as much sympathy and comfort as physically possible.

“He’s not as soft as he looks,” Lenore continued as they descended the stairs. “You have to be stern sometimes or he’ll passive-aggressively walk all over you.”

“Yeah, I’ll...keep that in mind.” Sam was glad she couldn’t see his expression and changed the subject quickly. “You, uh, mentioned Michael? Is he…”

“Our other breeder,” she explained. “He's not as popular as Gabriel, more aggressive too. We can't have them in the same room together unsupervised because they _will_ fight and Gabriel _will_ end up hurt.” She pulled out two chairs once they reached the table. “Well, Michael will fight, Gabriel will defend himself. Or try, anyway. Okay…” Papers rustled as she passed them to Sam. “...this is his medical history, here's his pedigree...and this one is all the legal information. Custody, et cetera. You'll sign twice on the last page.”

Sam skimmed over the papers. … _eighty-six percent fertilization success rate...breeding from start of sexual maturity_ — “You've been breeding him since he was sixteen?”

“Not us personally. He was with someone else to start but they didn't anticipate how popular or successful he was going to be, so they passed him off to us when things got too complicated for them to handle.” Lenore leaned back, idly fixing her hair. “We had Michael first, so we knew how to run a breeding program. Adding Gabriel wasn't too much extra work, in hindsight.”

 _Not when he’s surviving on the bare minimum._ “And he stopped breeding a month ago, you said?”

“Yes.” Lenore sighed and leaned back in her chair. “A client came in with three females; he wanted one bred with Michael and the other two with Gabriel. Michael’s session was successful...Gabriel’s, not so much. He finished with the first, but not the second. He got as far as mounting her and then just...quit.” Lenore shrugged. “We thought it was one of his tantrums—every so often he’ll refuse a partner, but we're usually able to make him behave. This time, he ended up sitting in a corner ignoring everyone. We tried coaxing him back to her about a dozen different ways and nothing worked, so we refunded the client for that one and spent the next month trying to figure out what went wrong.”

Sam almost scoffed out loud, but caught himself. _He’s depressed, that’s what’s wrong._ “I’m sure getting away from the stress will be good for him.”

“That was the hope. But it's a shame to see all his breeding potential go out the window...”

Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting on _that_. The sooner he could get Gabriel out of here, the better. He busied himself with the paperwork, letting his speed-reading skills from college take over. Gabriel's medical history was fairly normal, but he was overdue for his yearly checkup. _No medications, no chronic illnesses, healthy weight percentile...a few scattered cases of the flu, a single UTI two years ago_ … Nothing about feather-plucking.

Sam ignored the pedigree altogether, only checking for Gabriel’s date of birth. September 4th, 1980. Which meant… He tried to keep his expression neutral as he worked the math. _Eight, three, so thirty-eight...sixteen…_ Gabriel had been breeding for twenty-two years. Something sour twisted in Sam’s stomach.

He moved on to the legal documents, silently thanking his years at Stanford for giving him the edge he needed to understand the fine print of situations like this. Unfortunately, the fine print made Sam even queasier. There was a very thin line between custody and ownership when it came to angels, and this contract leaned toward the latter. He still signed. He had to. Legally, Gabriel would be his property, but ethically and morally… Sam preferred to think of it as an adoption.

Lenore glanced at the papers as Sam signed the last line. “Perfect. And you have the payment with you, right?”

Sam nodded and dug into his pocket, pulling out the folded check and pressing it into Lenore’s open hand. The weight in his chest lifted the instant his fingers left the paper. It was done. He’d arrive back at home with a new addition to the Winchester family. They’d get him healthy again, give him a safe place to live, somewhere he wouldn’t have to worry about—

“Great, thank you.” She tucked the check into the pocket of her jeans after verifying that everything was correct. “He’s all yours if you can get him out the door.”

Sam had a feeling that wouldn't be difficult. Not if the angel really believed he was there to help. The door to Gabriel’s room was still closed when they returned, but Sam could hear movement inside. “Gabriel?” He rapped his knuckles against the door. “It's Sam.” The rustling paused, then continued.

Lenore side-eyed him and reached for the knob. “You can just go in, you know.”

Sam shrugged. “Common courtesy.”

She opened the door anyway.

Gabriel was kneeling in front of the small set of drawers, stuffing things into a travel bag. Sam edged around Lenore and didn’t even try to repress the grimace that crossed his face. This new view of the angel’s wings only confirmed his fears. Several primary flight feathers were missing from Gabriel’s left wing along with an entire section of secondaries on his right. A ragged patch of bare skin showed through above that where a handful of coverts had been pulled out. Sam swallowed.

Lenore cleared her throat from the doorway. “All your papers are signed, Gabriel. Time to go.”

Sam crossed the room slowly, kneeling when he reached Gabriel. “I'm ready when you are,” he assured quietly. “No rush. Do you need me to carry something for you?”

Gabriel’s hands twisted into the blanket he’d just finished folding, but he silently offered it to Sam after just a moment of hesitation.

“You want me to hold this?”

Gabriel pushed it toward him a little more insistently.

“That’s his favorite,” Lenore explained. “When his original owners dropped him off here, he was clinging to that thing like his life depended on it. Granted, he was only eighteen at the time…” There was a tinge of fondness in the woman’s voice, something Sam hadn’t heard all afternoon. “He’s kept it around ever since.”

A sincere smile tugged at Sam’s lips as he took the blanket from Gabriel. “I feel honored.”

Something changed in those amber eyes and Sam swore he saw a smirk flicker across the angel’s face. It was so fleeting that Sam started second-guessing himself immediately, but the eyes stayed the same—lighter, more playful—even as Gabriel turned away to close up the travel bag. Maybe Sam was looking for expression where there wasn’t one, but it made something flutter in his chest all the same.

Gabriel didn’t even look back as the three of them filed out of the room. He paid no attention to Lenore as he climbed into the passenger seat of Sam’s car with his blanket. His eyes held nothing but hope as Sam pulled out of the driveway and Sam finally felt as though he’d definitely made the right decision. It wouldn’t be easy, but the plan was in action and anyone who tried to stop him would sorely regret it.


	2. Chateau Winchester

In all fairness, the Winchester brothers could have bought a mansion. They opted instead for a custom-built three-story on four acres of land. It wasn't exactly _modest_ , but it wasn't lavish, either—somewhere in between that gave passers-by the impression that the occupants had money but chose to spend the majority of it on other things. The gate and fence hadn’t even been part of the original construction and Sam still thought it looked pretentious, but it kept the journalists at bay, so he could live with it.

“Home sweet home,” Sam announced, pulling up to the keypad at the end of the drive. Six digits later, the gate in front of them parted at the center, swinging slowly open on oiled hinges. He stole a glance at Gabriel as he eased up the long driveway toward the house. The angel’s amber eyes were wide, flitting around, drinking in every detail. It was a stark contrast to the hopeless, vacant stare he'd had just a few hours earlier. Still, even beneath the curiosity and excitement, there was a shred of uncertainty, and his wings stayed tucked tight against his back. Sam gave his best reassuring smile. “Like it? It's all yours, you know.”

Gabriel paused from his observation to side-eye him.

“I mean it. Nothing’s off-limits.” They rolled to a stop outside the detached garage. “...except maybe Dean's room. But everything else is fair game. We have a pool in the back and a gym and a home theater in the basement—” He slung Gabriel's travel bag over his shoulder as they climbed out of the car. “—and a huge deck and massive kitchen that opens out onto the patio… Speaking of the kitchen, Dean's probably making lunch. I don't know if you're hungry or not, but he's a really good cook. Makes the best burgers I’ve ever had—”

Frenzied barking from the other side of the front doors kept him from opening them. He cast a look over his shoulder at Gabriel, trying to gauge the angel’s comfort level. Surprisingly, and much to Sam’s relief, the golden wings actually relaxed a little. “You like dogs?”

Gabriel nodded.

“Good, ‘cause Bones likes people. He’s big, but the worst thing he’ll do is try to lick you to death.” A small smile actually crossed Gabriel’s lips. Sam took that as his cue to open the doors. Seventy-five pounds of fur and tongue collided with Sam’s face. “Hey, Bones! Yeah, I missed you too, buddy. Down. Good boy. No, down. Stay.”

The golden retriever turned in an excited circle beside Sam’s leg, then immediately bounded over to Gabriel, panting and wagging his tail so enthusiastically his whole butt wagged with it. He sniffed at the angel’s hands, and that little flutter returned to Sam’s chest when Gabriel crouched down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Careful, you’ll be his new best friend and then he'll never leave you alone.”

There was a clatter from deeper inside the house. “Sammy?!”

“No, I’m here to steal your all your TVs!” Sam shouted back.

“If you see my brother on the way out, tell him he’s gonna have cold food!”

Sam grinned over his shoulder at Gabriel. “Told you he’d be cooking. We should probably get in there if we wanna eat. Can I leave your bag on the coat rack?”

Gabriel nodded, straightening up and starting in the direction of Dean’s voice. Sam followed. Bones padded alongside, battering the angel’s wings with his tail. Gabriel didn't seem to mind.

“You want onions?!”

“Depends.” Sam slid onto one of the barstools at the high counter. “What’re you making?”

Dean pulled a browned bun out of the toaster. “Grilled chicken sandwiches. Picked up some fruit, too; figured you’d want smoothies.” He waved his spatula at the fridge. “Blueberries, strawberries, couple bananas, they're up there. How was the, uh...?” He turned around and caught sight of Gabriel. “...oh. Guess it went well. Wanna introduce me?”

"Dean, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, my brother Dean.”

The angel ruffled his wings and ducked his head in acknowledgement.

“Already stole Sam’s dog, huh?” Dean joked, flashing a warm, lopsided grin.

Bones, seeming to sense that he’d been mentioned, whuffed and licked Gabriel’s hand.

Dean laughed to himself and turned back to the stove. “Well, welcome to the family, Gabe. I still need a couple minutes to finish these, so you can unpack if you want.”

“Yeah, I made up a room for you. Once you get upstairs, it’s the second one on the right.” Sam pointed to the lofted second floor, in the general direction of the room. “I’ll meet you up there in a second, just gotta talk to Dean real quick.”

The angel hesitated for just a second before nodding and making his way back to the entry hall. Bones trailed happily behind.

Once he was out of earshot, Sam slipped off his stool and joined his brother by the stove. “One, onions would be great. Two...I just wanted to give you a heads up—Gabriel’s been starving himself for...probably three weeks at this point, so go easy on the food at first, okay?”

Dean stopped mid-slice and raised his eyebrows. “Things were that bad?”

Sam snorted softly, watching Gabriel take his bag upstairs. “His room was a mess, he’d peed everywhere but wouldn’t come out—or couldn’t, I guess.”

“They didn’t let him?”

“They had another angel who was really aggressive, so whenever he and Gabriel were out at the same time, they’d get into fights. At least that’s what they told me. Never actually _saw_ the other one.”

"Were they breeding the mean one, too?"

“Supposedly.”

“So all those missing feathers…” Dean tossed the onion slices into the skillet. “From fights?”

Sam shook his head. “...not all of them.” The more he saw the injuries on Gabriel’s wings, the more confident he felt about his diagnosis. He knew better than most.

Dean didn’t need to ask. “It’s real fucked up,” he muttered softly after a minute of pushing the onions around in the frying pan. “What they were doin’ to him.”

“Yeah.” Sam’s eyes wandered to the loft. “He’ll get better, though.”

“If you need anything from me...” Dean turned off the burner. “Just say the word.”

Sam patted his brother on the shoulder as he stepped away. The silver lining to all of this was that Gabriel didn’t seem reluctant. Hesitant, sure. But Sam understood why. He could also feel Gabriel’s gratitude like a physical touch whenever the angel looked at him, so he knew he was doing _something_ right. Gabriel wanted help. Sam wanted to be the one helping. It was a start.

*********************************

“Mm, so—” Dean swallowed his current bite. “Benny’s coming back.”

“Where was he again?”

“Louisiana.” Dean took a swig of his beer. “Seein’ his kid.”

“Right.”

“Comin’ back Friday, I think. Said he’d work on that Mustang with me. Won’t be hard to sell once we get her all fixed up.”

“Yeah, it looks nice.”

“Look even nicer once we get a new coat of paint on her.”

Sam nodded and poked a stray onion back into his sandwich. His brain was making unhelpful connections between Dean’s current restoration project and...well, if Sam was being honest with himself, his _own_ restoration project. Gabriel. New paint. New feathers. Only he wasn’t fixing up the angel just to sell him again.

“...damn June bugs.”

Sam blinked himself out of his thoughts and focused on the little copper beetle floundering on the surface of the water. “Isn’t it early?”

“That’s what I thought too. Sure ain’t June.” Dean circled his finger around the rim of his beer bottle. “Already hot, though. Hey, what’s work look like for you this week?”

“Took today and tomorrow off so I could get Gabriel in for his checkup. Thursday I have some documents coming into the office, so I figured I'd just stay there and get those sorted out.” Sam turned his attention to Gabriel. “You gonna be okay here with Dean on Thursday?”

Gabriel nodded, picking the last blueberry off his plate.

“Good.” Sam was happy to see him eating, and even happier that Dean had given him a little bit of everything—half a chicken breast, a couple tomato slices, a handful of blueberries, a few unsalted crackers, a glass of water. It was healthy, balanced, just enough to put the angel back on the right track to eating properly again. “I should be able to work from home on Friday...”

Dean finished his beer, then tipped the empty bottle toward Gabriel. “I'm sure he can find some way to entertain himself.”

Gabriel’s attention was fixed on the June bug as it thrashed its way closer to the edge of the pool. After a few seconds of watching, he set his plate aside and leaned out over the water, scooping the struggling beetle into his hands. He held it as it righted itself and crawled slowly across his palm.

“You know it’s just gonna fly back—hey!”

Sam jabbed his elbow into Dean’s side, but Gabriel’s focus was on the bug, not either of them. It had climbed onto one of his fingertips and was just sitting there, buzzing its wings. Carefully, Gabriel stood and walked to the edge of the patio. A few seconds later, the bug took off toward the trees like a tiny bronze bullet. Gabriel stayed standing at the edge of the concrete, his wings low, half open. He let the breeze rustle through his feathers for a minute before he tucked them neatly against his back and rejoined the brothers beside the pool.

“I'm sure that little guy appreciated the rescue,” Sam remarked with a smile. “As much as a bug can, anyway.”

Gabriel took a bite out of a tomato slice, nodding.

Dean snorted, more with amusement than anything else. “He needs to tell his friends to stay away from my pool.”

“Mm, that might be asking too much.”

Dean sighed and aimlessly swished his feet around in the water. After a minute, he laid down, pillowing his head on his arms. “Y’know, never actually seen an angel fly before. Not in person anyway.” He paused. “Never really interacted with one either. Seen a bunch of ‘em ‘cause of what Dad—” His voice faltered as his eyes snapped open and darted to Gabriel. “Just never been this close to one before,” he mumbled.

They finished lunch in relative silence.


	3. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's made it through his first day with the Winchesters. With only minimal awkwardness.
> 
> **Read, enjoy, review, and share!**

Steam filled Sam’s spacious bathroom, curling over the glass shower partition, clinging to the mirror, drifting out the open window. Sam snuck a quick glance to his right. Gabriel’s hair had all but turned into shampoo foam and he was studying the back of a bottle, shaking his wings gently, letting the multiple streams of water massage his feathers.

Sam turned back to the sink. “So that checkup I mentioned at lunch?” He saw Gabriel nod out of the corner of his eye. “It's kinda early, but apparently this doctor is really good and her only open time tomorrow was eight in the morning. You're not nervous around doctors or anything, are you?”

Gabriel shook his head, but Sam noticed his wings fold inward a little. Unfortunately, those wings were the subject of Sam’s concern. But now wasn't the time to bring it up, at least not immediately. Not after the lingering awkwardness of Dean’s offhand comment at lunch. “She’s a GP specifically for angels, so she’ll—ah, shit.” He jerked the razor away from his face, away from the thin line of red growing on his jaw. “...she’ll know what she’s doing.” He pressed a strip of tissue against the cut.

Gabriel nodded again and they settled into a comfortable, if quiet, routine. Sam couldn’t help getting distracted by the flashes of gold in his peripheral vision. Ever since lunch, he’d been thinking about Gabriel’s wings. About flight. About feathers, or the lack thereof. About Gabriel’s health, physical and mental. He sighed and rinsed his razor. If anyone could connect with Gabriel in this situation, it would be him. Or at least he hoped.

Truth was, Sam had never been this close to an angel before either. He just did a better job hiding his curiosity—and knowing what _not_ to say—than Dean did. Plus, he’d done more research. Ever since he was a kid, he’d been fascinated by the winged people and took every free minute of his time to hole up with any book he could find on them. There were surprisingly few, and most of them theoretical at that. Angels were enigmatic anomalies that left religion and science both scratching their heads.

Out of all his reading, he loved the topic of wings the most. Learning about their structure, the subtle variations in feather patterns, the way angels used them to communicate. Nothing was more important to an angel than their wings. Which was why it was almost impossible to raise the subject of injuries. At least with any amount of tact. “She’s gonna look at your wings tomorrow, you know.”

He saw Gabriel’s hands slow as he rinsed the last of the lather out of his hair.

“And I’d like to know what to tell her, when she asks.” He was taking a gamble. Gabriel couldn’t resist him, not really, but Sam didn’t want to make the angel do anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent his whole life being forced into situations like that already.

Gabriel eyed him, flapping the water out of his feathers as much as he could while still within the confines of the shower.

“I just want to look,” Sam clarified. “If you’ll let me.” Gabriel’s feet left damp prints on the bathmat as he stepped out and presented his wings to Sam. This wasn’t even close to his full wingspan, the bathroom walls wouldn’t allow it, but Sam still felt his breath catch in his throat. The wet, dull feathers had no effect on how Sam saw the angel’s wings in his mind—healthy, full, and gleaming metallic in the sunlight. Sam would get them there. He had to. “...can you show me…” He didn’t know how to phrase it. “...which ones are from Michael?”

Gabriel pointed out the injuries. He had to reach a little to indicate the patch on the back of his right wing, but the missing primaries were easy enough to get to. Sam just wanted to have his suspicions confirmed. For all of them. “I know about the others,” he said softly.

Gabriel’s wings and shoulders instantly tensed.

That was all the confirmation Sam needed. “You don’t have to hide it,” he reassured. “Trust me, I understand.”

Gabriel slowly lowered his wings as he turned, an expression of faint confusion on his features.

“Yeah, I…” Sam felt his throat start to tighten, but knew it had to be said. Gabriel needed to know. He swallowed. “Look.” He pulled up his shirt and turned his back to Gabriel. He didn’t have to feel it to know where it was. Right in the middle of his back, across his spine. “That…” His eyes were hot. “My dad gave me that. When I was just a kid. And these?” He let his shirt fall back into place and quickly rolled up one of the legs of his jeans, pointing to a set of thin lines criss-crossed over his upper thigh. If he kept talking, he could get it all out. “...did this to myself. I was fourteen.”

Gabriel looked up at him with obvious concern, then reached out, hesitantly, to brush his fingers over the faint scars.

Miraculously, Sam was able to keep the tears at bay, but his voice still came out as a hoarse, broken whisper. “It's not just you, okay? I get it. I want to help.”

Gabriel nodded and let his hand linger for a few seconds before pulling away.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

“Oh, that one? That’s from the Grand Canyon.” Sam leaned forward to take the smooth black rock out of Gabriel’s hand. “Our uncle Bobby took Dean and me down there when we were…” He glanced across the coffee table at his brother. “You were twelve, right?”

Dean shrugged. “Think so.”

“Yeah, so I guess I was about eight. We hiked down in a day, started right at sunrise. Bobby was younger then, so he didn’t have too much trouble keeping up with us. You know there’s a cabin at the bottom?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Yeah, we camped there overnight with a couple other people, then hiked right back up the next morning. We had to eat breakfast at, like, four in the morning so we could make it back up in a day. But while we were at the bottom, I took this out of a creek.” He handed the rock back to Gabriel, who turned it over in his hands a few times.

Dean chuckled quietly. “Yeah, you were also convinced a mountain lion was gonna come in through your window and eat you that night.” He tipped his coffee mug at Gabriel. “Sammy wasn’t always so brave. Had to have his big brother keep the flashlight on until he fell asleep.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I was a _kid_. And it was a valid concern! There _are_ mountain lions down there.”

“Sure, sure…”

“I know what I heard, Dean.”

“Mmhm. Oh, tell him what trail we hiked. He’ll love it.”

Sam’s lips quirked in an involuntary smile. “...the Bright Angel Trail.”

Gabriel looked up from the rock collection, his wings already fluffed.

“Sam insisted…” Dean kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “And Bobby wasn’t gonna say no.”

“It’s an easy trail.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why you picked it.”

“...I’d love to go back,” Sam murmured after a minute. “God knows I have the PTO hours.”

“You know where _I_ wanna go? Vegas.”

“You’ve _been_ to Vegas.”

“So? I wanna go again.”

Sam snorted and returned to his book.

“Tell you what. You drive to Arizona, I’ll fly to Vegas. When you’re done enjoying nature and all that, you come pick me up. Your giraffe legs could probably hike it in six hours, anyway.”

“Why would I need to pick you up? ‘Cause you wouldn’t be sober enough to buy a plane ticket? Or because you wouldn’t have any money left?”

“One, I’m not a drunk, and two, I’m good at poker! You remember that time I won five thousand bucks?!”

“And then spent most of it on expensive food? Yeah.”

“Hey, it was my money to spend. And I don’t remember you complaining—I bought you dinner too.”

Sam lightly tapped Gabriel’s arm with his foot. “You see what I have to live with?”

Dean scoffed. “Okay, how about this. You never would’ve had that _awesome_ twenty-first birthday party if it wasn’t for me.”

“It was awesome for _you_ only because you hooked up with what’s-her-face.”

“Mm...Cassie. Cassie Robinson…”

“Yeah, her. _I_ just had a hangover and spent most of the morning with my head in the toilet.”

“That’s hardly my fault.”

“I’m gonna start throwing these rocks at you.” Sam motioned to the pile in front of Gabriel.

“You wouldn’t.” Dean was corrected a second later by the small pebble that bounced off his chest. “Hey!”

At his feet, Sam saw Gabriel settle back against the couch, looking smug. He was surprised by how much he liked the expression.

Dean huffed and stood, tossing the pebble back at Gabriel, who caught it one-handed. “I’m gonna go start dinner before things get medieval in here.”

Sam laughed to himself as his brother retreated to the kitchen. “Good call, Gabe.” The nickname came easily. “He deserved that.”

Gabriel looked back at him, the playful expression still in place.

Sam lowered his book and watched the angel carefully pack the rocks back into the box they’d come out of. “Hey. If I ever do go back to the Grand Canyon…would you want to go with?”

Gabriel’s face morphed into something more pensive as he closed the box, then nodded.

“It’s probably the best place in the country to see the stars,” Sam continued. “The best place _I’ve_ ever been, anyway.” He moved to the side to make room when Gabriel climbed up onto the couch next to him. “I’ve always kind of wanted to see the northern lights, too.”

Gabriel hummed in what Sam assumed was agreement.

Sam elbowed him gently. “What about you? What do you want to see?”

Gabriel’s head tilted. Sam found himself thinking of a parrot and almost laughed. After a minute of thought, Gabriel held up a finger and slid off the couch. Sam watched him cross the floor and disappear into the office. He returned a moment later with a thick book and the small globe that Sam kept on his desk. He studied it for a second, then pointed.

“Australia?”

The angel shrugged and swirled his hand over the Pacific.

“The ocean in general?”

Gabriel nodded and set the globe down on the coffee table, then took up his space on the couch again, showing Sam the cover of the book he’d brought. It was a full-page photo of a coral reef populated with dozens of colorful fish. Light blue letters near the bottom read _Narrative Encyclopedia of the Great Barrier Reef_.

Sam smiled. “I’ve had that since I was a kid. Read it more times than I could count.” Gabriel’s own smile was small, but genuine, and for the first time, Sam noticed it reach his eyes, somehow making the gold even brighter.

They each turned back to their respective books, but Gabriel shifted so that his wing was pressed against Sam’s arm. Sam didn’t move until Dean called them both into the kitchen thirty minutes later.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Sam hadn’t expected he’d be so tired, but he was. In hindsight, it had been a long day. He could only imagine how Gabriel felt. The angel had seemed grateful to be in a clean bed and Sam made sure that he’d settled in before retiring to his own room. He was right down the hall in case he needed anything… Sam was just seconds away from sleep when he felt the mattress behind him shift, sinking downward. He turned as quickly as he could, but his muscles had already checked out for the night and he felt like he was fighting through syrup. His eyes opened directly into a pair of wide, slightly concerned amber irises. “...Gabriel?” He slurred. “Whad’re you doin’?”

The angel made a soft noise and settled himself, gingerly, right up against Sam’s back.

Sam lay rigid for a few seconds before hazarding a guess. “...you wanna sleep here?” He felt Gabriel nod and chewed on his lip for a moment before relaxing back into the mattress. His heart hurt as an image of Gabriel in his old room crossed his mind; curled up alone in those dirty blankets night after night. “You probably got real lonely, huh?” Sam murmured, shifting onto his back.

Gabriel nodded again, and Sam swore he heard the faintest whimper. Sam’s hand was moving before he could stop it, resting over the small downy feathers where Gabriel’s wings met his back. For a split second, he worried that it might be unwanted contact, but his fears quickly ebbed when Gabriel fluffed his feathers around Sam’s fingers. “You like that?”

Gabriel somehow managed to nestle even closer.

Sam couldn’t help smiling. Slowly, he started working his fingertips in small circles, massaging around the base of Gabriel’s wings, up and down his spine, around his shoulders. It was only a matter of minutes before the angel’s breathing had slowed and steadied, but Sam didn’t move his hand. It was still there when his own eyes started to close and the room finally went dark.


End file.
